


In Theory

by summerartist



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, the discord seemed to like this so I thought I'd share
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 20:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20747984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerartist/pseuds/summerartist
Summary: While looking after Crowley during the aftermath of The Blitz, Aziraphale comes up with an approach that could have saved Crowley a lot trouble.(Combining the classic footwashing trope with a bit of banter.)





	In Theory

* * *

“Well, I wasn’t about to ask you to pick me up for a bit while I threatened the Nazis. Would have ruined the effect,” Crowley said logically.

Aziraphale waited while Crowley’s feet soaked for a time before pulling them out and patting them dry.

“I’m not certain if your jig was exactly formidable, but-” Aziraphale held his hands up as Crowley predictably protested. The angel spoke overtop him. “There was another way you could have circumvented consecrated ground while you approached.”

Crowley frowned as Aziraphale gently rubbed a balm onto the burns. Even though Aziraphale’s hands were hardly touching him, Crowley winced. Aziraphale discovered a small fracture in his little toe. He cupped the digit between his palms and healed it.

“Oh? Do enlighten me as to your clever plan.” Crowley was growing a bit testy with the care that was drawing attention to all of his aches of the century. He could go for a nap right about now.

“The pews,” Aziraphale said, not clearing anything up at all.

“What?” Crowley murmured.

“I’m saying that you could have used the pews to climb on while crossing the church. The way you were leaning on them gave me the idea. It’s...somewhat of a game that children play. They pretend that the floor is dangerous to the touch, so they climb on other surfaces.”

Crowley’s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to refute the idea, but instead a jumble of noises came out. He snapped his jaw shut with a small ‘click’ and seemed to think furiously for a moment.

“I- I had to be close, you know. In case they actually fired the bullet, or your miracle couldn’t cover enough ground to include me.” The reasoning sounded weak even to his own ears.

As Aziraphale finished caring for his singed toes and amicably agreed with him, Crowley wondered how such a clever creature could have chosen heaven. His angel was remarkably good at getting what he wanted and finding ways to dodge authority. It was a shame, really. He was utterly wasted upstairs.


End file.
